Green and Dead Roses
by ShiggetyWhat
Summary: Hermione and Draco are Head Girl and Boy, not that Hermione cares because she plans on staying as far away from him as possible. Except Malfoy has other plans to ruin the Trio...
1. Rodents and Stares

**Authors Note: I own Harry Potter. Like, I am secretly J.K. Rowling in disguise, like, duh. And, like, if you don't believe me, you can't, you know, sue me, because, like, you don't know who I am. Harry Potter is like, secretly locked in my toilet, because, like, I own him, and I, like, decided to keep him there. snort Okay, I just felt like putting that because I'm figuring it's kind of obvious I don't own any of the characters, and if you are too dense to realize that without me telling you, you are probably too dense to understand this story. THE PLOT IS _MINE!!!_**

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**Chapter One: Rodents and Stares**

Bustling threw the throng of Muggles at the train station, Hermione squirmed her way to the barrier between platform nine and ten. At the age of almost-seventeen, not to mention attending a school for witchcraft and wizardry for six years now, she should be able to see past the brick wall that still looked menacingly solid, just waiting to laugh as she smashed her bones against the bricks. But, alas, as she has one hand cradling Crookshanks, while the other gripping the trolley; she still tends to break into a run while shutting her honey-brown eyes. She opened her eyes again to see the scarlet steam engine welcoming her on. After searching for an empty compartment, she settles on the rather cozy one in the back. Reaching into her pocket she pulls out the neatly folded letter that she received three weeks before.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected by the professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft in Wizardry to be Head Girl. While this task is a great honor, it also holds great work. You will be responsible for the following:_

_Assisting the teachers if there ever happens to be a crisis (-Yeah and of course there's never a crisis at Hogwarts,_ Hermione smiled_-)_

_Assigning Prefect Duties_

_Reporting trouble amongst the students to the teachers or our caretaker, Argus Filch_

_Keeping peace between the students_

_Working with the prefects for any special events such as: balls, dances, or tournaments_

_You also have the privilege to:_

_Assign detentions or punishment (with a teachers permission, meaning you must discuss the problem with a teacher)_

_Take points off if students are causing mayhem_

_Visit Hogsmeade on all weekends, with exceptions of Quidditch matches, due to the need of supervision with such a number of students_

_Your will go to the Headmasters office to find out the location of your quarters, the password, and any additional information he feels you should know after the Feast._

_Your Head Girl badge can be found in this envelope: Wear it with Pride._

_Remember: You CAN be demoted from your position if you do not abide to the rules or if you abuse your power._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

Deputy Headmistress

Hermione tucked the parchment back into her pocket, and threw her robes over her Muggle attire. She knew she should sit in the Prefects compartment, but she thought she would wait for Ron, so they could go together; she didn't feel comfortable going alone, even though she was Head Girl. _Head Girl. _I_ am Head Girl!_ As she was imagining the possibilities she could use to her advantage with her new position, Ron and Harry burst through the door, five minutes before the train departed. _No surprise, _Hermione smiled to herself.

"Hermione!" they chorused.

Hermione examined them. It had been an entire summer since she'd seen the two after all. Harry and Ron sat down, both with windswept hair, as though they had run all the way to the train station. Harry was still on the skinny side, but had grown length wise, although Ron still towered over him. Despite his scrawniness, for lack of a better word, he had muscles that had been achieved through six years of Quidditch, but he didn't show them off, considering he was already getting enough attention just by that scar. His emerald eyes peered out through his midnight black hair that still had no rules or boundaries. As usual he was wearing a shirt that hung to his knees, and pants with legs so wide he could make another pair using the excess fabric and still fit comfortably into his current ones.

Ron had changed quite a bit. He was still tall, with flaming red hair, but his hazel eyes were slightly hidden behind his hair. The ruby-red hair of his had grown, and now the bangs of it fell softly in front of his face. Although he was still lanky, he had looked as though he had been working out, **(Authors Note: Let's just say he spent all summer chasing after lawn gnomes for exercise, since I don't know if wizards go to the gym) **and had a lean figure, but still skinny. What surprised Hermione most was his clothing. He was wearing dragon hide combat boots with ripped faded blue jeans. A worn looking black leather jacket was covering his plain white t shirt, which was frayed around the edges. Hermione had the sense that he was going to follow in his brother, Bill's, footsteps, and in no time would have a fang dangling from his ear.

**(Authors Note: I would just like to point out, that Ron and Harry have muscles, but they do not have a six pack, or whatever; they just aren't the skinny, nerdy type of bodies. Think Trent Ford in _How to Deal_ or the skinny rock star type of guy. In other words, they can kick Percy Weasley's … buttocks.)**

Though Hermione didn't realize it at the time, Ron and Harry were searching her for signs of change as well. Her hair was still the thick bush it had always been, except it wasn't frizzy. Her waves overlapped each other and fell down in a fight to her back. What she referred to as mud, some people would stare in awe at her "chocolate-with-flecks-of-gold" eyes. Her slim figure had been achieved by none other than lucky genetics. Her fair skin blended well with her face, and because her fortunate heredity once again had blessed her with blemish-free skin. While she was slender, she wasn't exactly curvy or busty, but her figure was decent; not stick straight, but not the perfect hour glass body either.

**(Authors Note: Basically, Hermione is skinny, but she's not super-model, and doesn't have a big butt or cup size, but still a decent figure.)**

"You guys look great," she breathed towards Ron.

Ron blushed bashfully and mumbled something that sounded awfully like "You always do…"

Harry took notice of the awkward silence. "Er, why don't you guys go to the prefects' compartment? I'll save a seat for Ginny."

At that moment Ginny slammed the door open. "RON!" She shrieked with her fists clenched as she stomped toward him. "How DARE you look through my bag! WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT? DO YOU KNOW THAT WHILE YOU WERE CONDUCTING YOUR LITTLE SEARCH, YOU SPI.LLED INK ALL OVER MY BOOKS AND PARCHMENT?"

Rob, who at first tried to look innocent, joined Ginny's rage. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have had to if you told me that you were going out with Seamus Finnigan!" He roared.

"Exactly, Ron, _were_," Ginny shot back. "As in meaning, I'm not currently going out with him anymore!"

At this, Ron stared at his shoes. "You, you aren't?" He asked sheepishly.

"No, Ron, I'm not." Then, noticing Harry and Hermione for the first time she turned to them. "Hermione! You look gorgeous! Harry! You're taller!" Ginny squealed.

Harry grinned at her. "Either that, or you're just shorter Gin," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You look great though."

Ginny blushed faintly at his compliment.

"Ron, Hermione, you guys better get to the compartments or you might be demoted," Harry reminded them. They bid their good-byes to their friends and raced to the front of the train, robes clutched tightly in their hands. When they reached the compartment they found that the other prefects were waiting expectantly for them.

"Hermione! You better put your robes on fast and find the Head compartment, because Professor McGonagall looks mad." Lavender Brown said all of this very rushed.

After throwing her robes over her Muggle jeans and t-shirt she ran into the next compartment to find Professors Snape and McGonagall sitting with Draco Malfoy.

All at once thoughts rushed into Hermione's head. _Oh my gosh, did somebody die? Why are Professor McGonagall and Snape here? Wait, why is _Malfoy_ here?_ Then it dawned on her_. Oh. My. Gosh. MALFOY is Head Boy! Why didn't I realize it before? I mean, it would obviously be him, since Snape would rather have Neville substitute for potions than have anyone BUT Draco as Head Boy. But this still doesn't explain why two professors have to meet us. Do they think I can't handle the little pointy faced ferret?_

"Ms. Granger, as you know you have been appointed Head Girl, but what might be news to you, is that Mr. Malfoy here is Head Boy. Professor Snape and I are concerned, as you two have a rather unpleasant history." When Professor McGonagall stated the last part, Malfoy's eyes glinted malevolently at Hermione, as he gave her the once over. Hermione shuddered and felt her self turning green. Worst, he seemed to approve of her figure. _As usual, the thick skull of his hasn't registered that I look practically the same!_ Hermione screamed inside her head.

McGonagall pretended not to notice the tension forming between the two. "We are going to request that you form a truce, or at least attempt to have a civil relationship with each other."

"If you two can't even manage that, which I for one personally doubt you will, try to avoid one another at the very least," Snape said silkily. With this both of the teachers left Malfoy and Hermione alone with one another in the compartment.

"Well mudblood, I for one am surprised you don't look more pleased knowing that you will be living with Hogwarts most eligible bachelor for a year. You aren't my type but I guess I can find my uses for you," Draco drawled. His platinum blonde hair, which now made Hermione think of Ron, falling into his eyes as well (_Is there some new trend nobody told me about?_) and pale skin gave Hermione the impression of a very deformed Veela. He was taller than Hermione (_who isn't?_ she thought) but shorter than Ron. His face would be somewhat handsome if he wasn't wearing that annoying pompous sneer he plasters on all the time. She looked at his silvery eyes which reminded Hermione of Sickles. _That fits him,_ she thought,_ considering how money-hungry he is all the time. Stupid git._

"Well Draco, I'm sure you'll be more than happy to know I plan on following Snape's advice, so I will interact you as little as I possibly can." Hermione said huffily. Her hair kept whipping her face whenever she shook her head, so she strangled it into a low pony tail.

"Hmm, interesting Granger. It seems you've finally realized that the static electricity conducted by your frizzy hair was killing your brain cells. Kudos for you, you filthy little book worm," Malfoy snorted.

"I must admit, I have to give my compliments to your hairstylist for coming to their senses and taking out all of the gel that was blocking the oxygen to your own brain." With this Hermione gave a little applause, and turned sharply to go patrol the corridors with Ron.

Malfoy grabbed her arm causing her to cringe at both the sting that shot through her nerves, and the horror that this git was touching her. He pushed her against the wall and was standing inches away from her face. "Don't you walk away from me again until I've decided this conversation is over, and don't you dare insult me, because trust me, you'll regret it," he hissed at her.

Though Hermione was panicking on the inside, because she was pinned against the wall by an overgrown ferret, whom, unfortunately, was very strong and terrifying, she didn't let it show, and stared right into those steely gray eyes. "I thought the conversation was over," she said. "And, I would be more than happy to not insult your pathetic soul, if you didn't insult me. Now, if you would be so kind to let go of me, I will leave you in peace with your almighty Ferret-ness."

"You're not going anywhere Granger. I have you right where I want you, and Potter and Weasley can't help you," he said, a smirk dawning on his face.

Hermione knew this was true. "I don't need anyone's help, you ignorant nitwit," she whispered. At that moment someone had opened the door into their compartment.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing Malfoy?!" Ron shouted. He wrenched Hermione's arm out of Malfoy's grip and stood in front of her, like a wall.

"Granger and I were getting ourselves acquainted. Is that a problem Weasley?" Draco retorted. He slid his hands into his pocket, and gripped his wand.

"Well, it is if you're going to pin her against the wall because you know she wouldn't give you the time of day," Ron snarled.

"Weasel, it's easy to see you're a jealous rodent, since I will be the one sleeping with the mudblood, but be assured, I do not want her, although her feelings for me might be a little strong." Malfoy's eyes glittered with malice, for he knew that he touched a nerve.

"What the hell do you think you're talking about, you stupid git!? McGonagall said we'd be living together, not sharing rooms and beds. But I suppose you have some hair gel still stuck in your ear don't you?" Ron smirked at Hermione's comment and felt relieved and stupid at the same time. _Obviously they wouldn't be sleeping together._ _Ack, Ron, why would you actually think that McGonagall would allow them to sleep together? How thick can you get?_

"We'll see how you feel later on filthy mudblood," Malfoy said. Ron impulsively made a move to kill him, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Come on; let's go patrol the corridors together." With a last glare at Malfoy, she and Ron set off together down the Hogwarts Express.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ginny were sitting together in the compartment still. Ginny rested her head against the window, watching the fog form and disappear as she breathed. Harry never thought about it, but Ginny was actually very pretty. Her copper hair was soft and smooth, and fell down to her shoulders framing her face. Her freckles sprinkled her nose and cheeks, but they weren't as vibrant as the other Weasley's. She was shorter than Hermione, but Harry felt fine about that since he wasn't exactly a giant himself. __

_ It's too bad she decided to give up on me. Why was I so dense? Harry! Come on! This is Ginny. You know, your best friend's _sister_._

Ginny sensed Harry's eyes boring into her side profile and smiled. "Harry, if you're going to stare, you could at least be a little more discrete about it," she teased. She crossed the compartment and settled herself down in the empty seat next to him. "So what's on your mind?"

Harry hesitated, as what he was about to ask was a rather odd question. "Ginny," he started slowly, "why don't you fancy me anymore?"

Whatever Ginny was expecting, it was not this. "Well, I guess it's because I didn't really have a chance with you, and I decided not to let that get in the way of my life. I mean, you liked Cho, and I just, gave up…" Ginny trailed off and looked into those forest green eyes. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Harry said quickly. Then he engaged into a chat about Quidditch in hopes of making them both forget the unusual conversation.

Hermione felt her breath quicken its pace as she walked along the train with Ron next to her. He smelled like wood, as if he sprinkled saw dust over himself before entering the train. His body towered over her, giving her a sense of security.

"… Hermione, if Malfoy tries anything, you just tell me and Harry. In fact, if you can't find Harry because he's taking another death trip, you can just tell me and I'll squash the little rat with my bare hands…" Hermione couldn't help but glance at his hands. They were big and callused, from gripping his broomstick for most of his life.

**(Authors Note: I know he's only been playing Quidditch at Hogwarts for three years now, but remember, he played with his brothers before he even was sorted into Gryffindor)**

A wave of sadness flooded Hermione. She would love to be caressed by those hands, but she knew that was most likely never to happen. Sure, Ron became jealous and over-protective of her when he was around guys, but that was because he was Ron. He loved Hermione like a sister. _And even if he did have feelings for me other than platonic ones, he also acts the same way when Ginny has a boyfriend. Unless Ron has lustful feelings for Ginny, he and I won't ever be together. EW! LUSTFUL FEELINGS FOR GINNY! THAT'S SO GROSS._

Hermione suddenly began gagging. "Hermione? Are you all right?" Ron stopped walking and turned to Hermione who was looking rather queasy. _It's weird how she can look so cute, even if she looks as though she is about to throw up all over my rather new robes._

"Oh, yeah, just, er, feeling a little sick. You know, the train and walking around. Maybe we should sit down with Harry and take a rest…" She looked pleadingly at those hazel eyes.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I'm sick of watching Pansy Parkinson run around half-naked like she owns the place," Ron said.

When Hermione and Ron opened the door to the last compartment, they found Harry and Ginny in deep conversation about snitches and Quidditch strategies. _It's funny. I mean, yeah Cho and I could talk about Quidditch, but she would always get all huffy and bored with it. Ginny can go on for hours, and teach me things I never knew_. Harry admired Ginny's charisma skills, how she could strike up a conversation about anything and make it last an entire train ride across Britain.

"Hey, Gin-Gin, Harry, change into your robes. We're practically there!" Ron was looking desperate to find an excuse to break off the conversation.

Ginny groaned. "Ron, how many times do I have to tell you to not call me Gin-Gin? I'm not seven-years old you know" Ginny said haughtily.

"Well, if you prefer Ginerva…" Ron said all too innocently. Then the façade quickly ended as he ducked out of range from the spell book Ginny hurled at him.

**Authors Note: Okay, end of chapter one. Please write a review, so that I know _someone_ read it. Just so you know, I'm not going to post any new chapters if you all hate my story, or if no one reads my story (go figure…) so, you know, yeah. I'm not going to beg for reviews, but it would be nice to get a few. Flames are fine, as long as they have some sort of meaning. Not just "AHH!! THAT SUCKED!!! BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, I'M GOING TO STICK FORKS IN MY EYES BECAUSE I HAVE NO LIFE!!!!!"**

**Yeah, constructive criticism only please.**


	2. Dead Roses

**Authors Note: YEAH! I GOT MORE THAN ONE REVIEW! Except the second one was from my best friend, but whatever. The point is SOMEONE (the other dude, not my friend) liked my story, so I'm going to add chapters. (Grins with pride) I like this chapter, except it took me all day to figure out how to write about everything, but who cares? It's another chapter! Enjoy.**

Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Ron rode the once-known-to-be horseless carriages together after they got off the train. Ron kept fidgeting with his hands for some reason, shooting glances at Hermione, then to the carriage behind them. Harry however, was once again watching Ginny, except she was pretending not to notice, because she was afraid he would stop. Harry's gaze made her body heat up, which confused Ginny. _I'm supposed to be over him, remember? How come whenever he looks at me with those gorgeous green eyes my face feels like it's on fire. How come whenever he's looking at me thinking I don't notice, I feel special and hot all over? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME??_

Harry didn't actually realize he was staring at Ginny so intently. Every inch of her face fascinated him, from her hairline to the delicate slope of her nose. He felt as though he wanted to absorb every detail into his brain so that he could sketch a picture in his sleep.

Ron followed Harry's gaze, and gave a jolt. _Bloody idiot! That's my sister!_ He decided not to say anything, because he knew that Ginny would probably chuck something more than just books if he did. So he decided to try his best to ignore it and watched the scenery outside his window.

During the feast Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron sat next to each other, in that order. Though Ron wanted to do nothing less then seat himself between his best friend and his little sister, he resisted the urge. Hermione, after all was sitting next to him, and he didn't want to miss this opportunity to ask her something that's been nagging him through out the entire train ride.

When Dumbledore's speech ended, he poked Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione, you don't… you know… fancy Malfoy… do you? I mean, you don't think he's handsome or anything right?" He gave Hermione a pleading look.

"What? Well, I mean, look at him. He has that devilish grin that could lure any girl to him…" Hermione looked at Ron with a wicked smile on her face. It took a while for Ron to realize she was joking.

**(Authors Note: He, he. Ron's so gullible. I love gullible people. Oh, yeah, the story. Sorry about that.)**

"Of course not! He's an arrogant jerk, and frankly, those aren't my type of guys… Why?" She raised her eyebrow as she waited for his response.

"Oh, nothing, just, you know, wondering. Are you gonna eat that treacle tart?"

Hermione smiled, amused at how even when it seemed like he was going to have a serious discussion, Ron's stomach always got the best of him. She handed him the treacle tart, and felt eyes boring into hers. When she looked around, she didn't see anybody, but she knew that someone was watching her, and it made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. What she didn't know was that Malfoy and his cronies were concocting a diabolical plan to destroy the Trio's friendship at the Slytherine table.

Harry and Ginny were having a debate over who would crack first.

"Honestly Harry, look at Ron! He gets furious when a guy glances at her. Now that Malfoy is going to be in the common room whenever Ron wants to visit her, it's only a matter of time until he breaks down and tells her," Ginny was saying.

Harry considered this. Though he secretly agreed with Ginny, he continued to protest to keep the conversation lasting. Ginny looked so endearing when she argued. Also, he was hoping maybe Ginny knew some secrets about Ron's crush on Hermione that she would use in the debate. After all, it's not like Ron ever actually admitted to fancying Hermione.

"And everyone knows Ron practically wears his heart on his sleeve, he just doesn't want to ever admit it," Ginny continued as she nibbled her pork roast.

"That may be true, Gin Gin," Harry smiled as Ginny threw her mashed potatoes at him, and hit Neville ("Sorry!" She blushed furiously as helped wipe it off), "but Hermione isn't as ignorant as Ron about her true feelings."

The friendly quarrel continued, ending with both of them making bets, in which Harry was sure he would be serving Ginny's hand and foot during the holiday break. He began to wonder if he did that on purpose, so that he would have an excuse to be around her. _No, I just am defending Ron. There's nothing wrong with that_, he thought to himself. **(Authors Note: Which is kind of pointless to add, since it's no like he can be thinking to anyone else. I'm talking about the "thought to himself", not the actually italic thought.)**

The feast finally ended, and Harry and Ron walked Hermione to Dumbledore's office. Hermione, sandwiched between the two of them couldn't help laughing at their brotherly actions. Ron's eyes kept darting around the corridors, as if expecting a troll to jump out and tap dance.

Sure enough, as they neared the gargoyle in which the Headmaster's office was concealed inside behind, they spotted Malfoy pacing back and forth. Ron grabbed Hermione's hand out of pure reflex. _Ack, you idiot! Hermione's hand is probably wishing you disintegrated on the spot_. His huge callused hands touching her own sent shivers down Hermione's spine. She gripped his hand back. Ron's heart did summersaults as he felt Hermione's soft hand fit perfectly into his enormous one.

"Oy, Prince Poverty, did you get yourself a girlfriend or something? You know, I was hoping that you could sink no lower, but no one else but a bushy haired mudblood like that would even glance twice at you." Malfoy sneered nodding his head toward Hermione, who quickly let go of Ron's hand.

_Oh, my gosh, Ron must be so embarrassed. I'm going to strangle Malfoy in his much needed beauty sleep._ Hermione looked apologetically at Ron, who just continued shooting daggers at Malfoy's pointed face. "Malfoy, do us all a favor and go drown yourself in a toilet," Hermione said hotly.

"Hmm… Granger, you seem much more confident then you were on the train, now that you have your body guards," Malfoy scoffed. His eyes traveled over Hermione, as he checked her out, once again. There was almost a hungry look in them.

"I told you once and I'll tell you again, I don't need anyone to protect me," Hermione scowled. She turned to Harry and Ron, giving them each a hug before saying her goodbyes. When she hugged Ron she took a deep breath to capture his woodsy scent.

"Just lay them already, you're making me bored." Malfoy's voice drawled from behind her. She grimaced, and then shoved the comment aside.

"Hermione, do you want us to stay until Dumbledore comes?" Ron asked, his eyes glaring at Malfoy.

"No, Ron, I can handle it. You both go relax in the common room. I'll be fine, honest," she added quickly when she noted Ron's obvious reluctance. She watched them gravely as they strode away hesitantly.

Once they turned the corner and were out of an ear-shot, Malfoy snuck up behind her and pinned her against the wall, all before she even registered what was happening. He leaned in, his hair tickling her cheek. "Do you need someone to protect you now?" he whispered.

Hermione's eyes were wide with fear. Raising her throbbing arms, she shoved Malfoy aside and walked across the all, where she planted her feet as she waited for the Headmaster.

Malfoy's wicked grin disappeared, as he heard faint footsteps coming down the corridor. Professor Dumbledore, with his sweeping beard and crooked nose, appeared before them.

"Peanut butter cups" he said, and the hideous gargoyle jumped back. Hermione followed closely behind him, trying her hardest to get away from Malfoy, but she knew she was being paranoid, since he wouldn't dare try anything in front of the Headmaster.

"I hope you enjoyed the feast," he began. "Your dormitories can be found right at the end of this hall, behind a knight. The password is 'Dead Roses" I know it's rather odd, but I couldn't help myself." His light cerulean eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "Just so there aren't any problems, when you are in the bathroom, and you wish not to be disturbed, just say your name to the mirror. Let me think… yes I think that's all you really need to know. Good luck and welcome back!" He chuckled jubilantly.

_Of course it's easy for him to laugh. He's not living with this… this slime-ball for the rest of the school year,_ Hermione thought miserably as she trudged out of the office. "Dead roses" she mumbled to the knight, which politely walked out of the way revealing a door. She gasped in awe at the room. The floor was a deep scarlet, with golden baseboards along the sides of the wall. There were silver throw rugs with green lining. The couches and plush chairs were made with a soft blue material, while the purple (with canary yellow lining) silk pillows laid casually on them. Paintings of gorgeous sceneries with waterfalls or falling snow covered the walls. A magnificent chandelier hung above the room, the candle light reflecting off of the crystals illuminating the room.

**(Authors Note: For those of you who don't understand the colors, it's all of the house colors. I was getting sick of all the stories where the Head dorms were only the Slytherine and Gryffindor colors, 'cause not every Head Girl and Head Boy are going to be from Slytherine and Gryffindor, and the colors should represent the school, you know? No offense to anyone who did that in theirs. Oh, and, er, I'm not really sure what the Hufflepuff house colors are, but I'm guessing purple and gold, or yellow and gold. So, yeah, please don't make voodoo dolls of me and stab them with safety pins if I'm wrong. Thanks.)**

Malfoy merely yawned. "What a dump," he muttered. "Listen, if you're going to shower and try to wash all of that repulsive hair, you better do it quick, because I am not going to sit around waiting. Then again, we could save water if we just showered together," he added thoughtfully.

Hermione whipped around, her eyes narrowed. "Would you stop saying things like that? It's disgusting and nauseating! And if you're so worried about the environment, let's just not shower at all!!!" she shrieked. Her heart speeded up when he said that. She knew it was a putrid, dirty thought, but it was kind of invigorating, like she was special. _What am I thinking? IT'S NOT SPECIAL! HE'S A HORNY TEENAGER WHO PROBABLY LOST HIS PORNOGRAPHY. Perverted idiot._ Her face was flushed, and she turned back to look at the paintings. _Maybe if I just ignore him he'll run to his daddy like he normally does when things don't go his way._

"What's the matter mudblood? Afraid you might enjoy it?" Malfoy said from behind her back. He sounded very close. Hermione turned around **(Authors Note: I know, she seems to be turning around a lot) **and stared into those cold gray eyes. They looked like thunderclouds now. Aggressive and cruel.

"You wish. I would never enjoy anything involving a shallow brat like you," she hissed. He continued to step closer to her. When he was a few feet away she started to step back. Inside she wanted to run as fast as her slender legs could carry her, but she didn't want him to know that he scared her to death. Especially after she repeatedly told him she wasn't frightened of him.

As she was walking backward, away from the slithering snake, she knocked into one of the lounge chairs and sank into its plush. She clutched the fabric as she watched, transfixed, as Malfoy continued to saunter toward her. She listed the possible choices inside her head. _Okay, you didn't become Head Girl for nothing. You've got brains! Use them! I can take out my wand and hex him... but there's a strong chance he'll see me reaching for my wand and beat me to it. Or I can scream at the top of my lungs. Wait, what would that do? It's not like anyone can hear us. Maybe, I can make a run for it? No, he's standing right in front of my possible getaway route. Or… I can play his little games, until my other options open. Oh, no. No, no, no. Yes, yes, yes. There's only one choice. You're a Granger. You're supposed to tackle any challenge that comes your way. Jut remember, don't let him win! Stand your ground! STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF!_

**(Authors Note: I just had to add that. Muahahahaha)**

Malfoy was now directly infront of her chair, making it impossible for her to escape to her room. He leaned down and gripped the broad shoulders of the chair, making his face inches from hers. (Authors Note: I would like to use another word for chair, since I feel as though I'm over using it, but I don't know any, so please bear with me.) His eyes seemed to be glittering with a devilish bliss, and it troubled her even more than she already was. "I told you," he said softly, "to stop insulting me. It looks like you're not as bright as everyone thinks." Hermione had never been this close to a guy, let alone Malfoy, and she was beginning to wish she would never have to be again.

His voice sent chills down her spine, just like Ron's touch did. But these were chills of utter fear, not heavenly delight. Cursing her ill luck, she began to wish Harry and Ron would come bursting through the door, just in the knick of time before Malfoy could do anything dreadful. She knew it was an absurdly far-fetched wish, because obviously they didn't know the password. And now she couldn't even count on Dumbledore to come strolling in since they had just left his office. It's not like he was going to be like "Oh! Dear me, I think I'll just check on Draco and Hermione, because I have a hunch that Draco has trapped Hermione in one of the plush chairs!" No, Hermione was on her own now.

Malfoy seemed to read Hermione's mind. He let out a quiet laugh as his gaze pierced her skin. "Ah, I see worry written all over your face. No St. Potter, no red-headed rodents, and no Dumbledore to come to your rescue now. You're all mine," he muttered into her ear. He traced a finger along her cheek, and then down her neck. It was like he had icicles for fingers, leaving a trail that burst into fire a few seconds later. His finger ran along her collar bone and towards her chest. This was just too much.

"Don't touch me," Hermione growled, as she snatched his finger away from her body.

Malfoy just raised an eyebrow. "Granger, I know I'm irresistible, but don't you think it's a little soon for you to go grabbing my-"

"My gosh!" Hermione cut him off. "That's not what I meant you cocky sod!" Then, realizing she was still holding on to his finger, she let go of it quickly as if it was contaminated. _Who knows where his hands have been_, she thought disgustedly. _Alright, I've hade enough._ She made a move to get up, but he pushed her back into the chair with ease. She sank even lower to the chair to put as much space between them as possible.

In the meantime, Harry, Ginny and Ron were huddled together in the common room testing out the latest products Fred and George sent them. One was a pack of colored tooth picks that changed the color of your teeth to whatever color the particular toothpick was. Unfortunately it took over an hour to wear off, so Ron, Harry, and Ginny had to test the other products, as they struggled from bursting into laughter. Harry had purple teeth, Ginny had orange, and Ron was cursed with black, making Harry think of the witch who tried to molest him when he ended up in Knockturn Alley during his second year. **(Authors Note: Well, to me it seemed like she was going to molest him.)**

Harry and Ginny kept stealing looks at each other when they thought nobody was looking. Ron bit his tongue so hard when he caught Harry for the fifth time (Ginny was far too sneaky to get caught) it bled. Black teeth and a mouth full of blood is not the most pleasant sight.

After trying out Fred and George's Chatty Parchment (which allowed you to send notes to your friends on one parchment, while they received it on their own), Sneaky Shoelaces (which tied themselves together when you least expected it), and Bubbly Gum (which made you hic-up bubbles for at least half an hour, and when they popped they squeaked random words such as "Pickles!" or "Sanctuary!") Harry and Ron went up to the boys dormitories while Ginny went up to hers.

"What was that all about Harry?" Ron asked as soon as they closed the door behind them, and walked to their four poster beds to change.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mate." Harry's voice was muffled as he pulled his pajama shirt over his head.

"Looking Ginny you at!" Ron was so livid that he jumbled all of his words up, and it took Harry a while to decode what he had just garbled.

**(Authors Note: For those of you who aren't the brightest crayon in the box, Ron meant to say, "You looking at Ginny!")**

"Oh, that. I was just staring at her teeth. I mean, you have to admit, it's rather odd seeing a red-head with orange teeth."

Ron considered this. "So, you don't, you know, fancy her right?" He asked hopefully.

"What? Of course not." Ron noticed Harry didn't look him in the eye as he said this, but he forced himself to believe it for his own good. He didn't want to think about how disturbing it would be if his best friend actually went out with his sister. For a split second Ron pictured Harry and Ginny making out, and then went into a fit of violent coughs.

"Mudblood, I'm not cocky, I'm just honest," he said as he began carelessly twirling a lock of her hair.

Hermione was freaking out by then. She didn't know what to do. Here she was, sandwiched between an innocent cushion and the Hogwarts pimp of the year. Her heart beat sped up, partly because she was terrified out of her mind, and partly because his burly body was so close, hovering above her as she coward in the chair. _I mustn't let him notice how terrified I am. He'll only use my panic to his advantage. Oh, God, I don't want to know what he wants to use it for._ She heaved a shudder and looked around the room for anything that might assist her in this time of need.

"Right, you just keep telling yourself that," she muttered. She turned her head away from his face so she wouldn't have to look at _him_ anymore and also because his mouth was becoming dangerously close.

"For a nerdy little goody-two-shoes, you've turned out quite decent," he continued. She could feel his hair sweep her cheekbones as he moved his head. It was soft. _I should've expected a guy like him to spend more time on his hair then on his schoolwork_. She began to wonder if Ron's hair was as soft as his. "Why don't we try something new? You wanna see what it's like to be bad?" He murmured into her ear.

Something about his voice made Hermione go weak in the knees. She knew there would be tons of Slytherine girls who would have jumped at the opportunity to be sitting where she was. How gladly she would have switched if she had the chance. Though he was rather easy on the eyes, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew he was trouble, and she wasn't falling for whatever scheme he was planning. His breath tickled her neck, and he smelled like expensive cologne.

"I would like to get out of this chair and away from you." She smiled sweetly at him, and turned her head to the side again.

"Come on Granger, aren't you tired of that Weasel and Potter hanging around you?" He was saying, as though they were filth rather than her best friends.

That did it. She whipped her face toward him, eyes fuming with rage. She wouldn't just sit there and allow him to insult Ron and Harry. Even though Ron apparently was not interested in her in the way she wanted him to be, she wouldn't just fling herself at the next stud that came her way. Especially if this particular stud was Malfoy, who was not only a; Slytherine, cocky jerk, and enemy of the Trio, but he and his father made the Weasley's life hell. Not to mention the fact that he's ruined her own life for the past six years as well. And Hagrid's, Harry's, Neville's…

_Oh shut up! He's ruined everyone's life! If I listed all of the names my head would spin! This is Malfoy! The question is whose life he HASN'T made a living hell. Then again hell wouldn't really be living, so that is an awkward saying and it really doesn't make sense—OH SHUT UP ALREADY AND GET OUT OF THERE!_

She looked up see Malfoy smiling at her with that mischievous smile of his, as if he had a plan up his sleeve that would be nothing but evil.

"I said don't touch me," she said in a voice braver than how she felt.

He just continued smiling and playing with her hair, as his eyes grazed over her body.

Without thinking about the consequences or even realizing what she was doing, Hermione rammed her knee in between his legs. She must have hit something very sensitive because he wasn't smiling anymore

Malfoy's scream shocked her, and then she pushed him out of the way as she dashed towards the bathroom. There he lay, on the scarlet carpet cursing her as she fled the room.

After saying her name to the grand mirror, she relaxed. _Malfoy might not be too eager to see me tomorrow_, she smiled to herself.

**Authors Note: There it is. Now, wasn't that special? Someone send me a review for this chapter so I know that you people are actually reading it. I don't care if it's just one person. YOU ALL MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL AND FUZZY INSIDE! Anyways, flames are wickedly awesome, as long as they have a purpose. If they don't, they're just wickedly fun to make fun of. (Muahahahaha) Sorry if my chapters may seem short, but I'm not that smart. (Sniffles) And for those of you who are getting annoyed with all of my authors' notes, you can just skip over the bold parts, but they are there to help you understand the story. Or just because I felt like putting them in the story. (Evil cackle)**


	3. Stained

**Author's Note: Yay!!! Sorry it took so long to write this chapter, but, you know, Fourth of July, fire, smoke, fireworks, more smoke, and pyromania. Anyways, I'm so happy; I received four more reviews!!! So, this chapter is basically for my five readers, but still, five is good enough for me! Also, I'm partially writing this story for my own amusement, so that I can find out what happens… even though I already do know what happens. I don't know what I'm talking about but who cares? The point is, this is CHAPTER THREE! (Cheers from adoring fans)**

**Oh, and the part where I say "Malfoy's burly body" in the previous chapter, I don't mean muscular and six-pack abs, I just mean that he's built, and not pitifully skeletal. Hope you enjoy! (Looks hopeful)**

**Oh, and if you like the story, review, so that I know! And if you don't like the story, review anyways, so that I know!**

Chapter Three: Stained

Hermione woke the next morning feeling refreshed and nervous. The memories of the night before tumbled back to her. She then became worried and tense at what Draco's revenge would consist of, but she shrugged it off, and headed to the Great Hall before anyone else had woken up.

When Harry and Ron came down, she relayed the previous night's events to them.

"WHAT DID THAT BLOODY RAT SAY? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS TALKING TO YOU LIKE THAT? I'M GOING TO STRANGLE HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS AND THEN RIP OUT ALL OF HIS ORGANS THE LITTLE"- Hermione repressed a chuckle as Ron began calling Malfoy some very rude words, before he calmed down. **(Author's Note: Use your imagination for the rude words that he says.)**

"Ron, it's okay. I handled the situation," she said with a knowing twinkle in her eye. When she told them about her violent outburst in the Head common room both Harry and Ron winced.

"Hermione, I know you're old enough to defend yourself, but this is Malfoy. He's not going to let you off that easily. I think Ron and I should stick with you for the rest of the week. Maybe even the year…" As Harry was saying this Ginny bounded into the Great Hall and plopped herself between Hermione and Harry. She took notice of their grim faces.

"Did somebody die?" She inquired curiously. The last time she had seen the boys looking so worried was when Hermione was petrified.

"No, but someone is going to if they don't keep their grimy hands off Hermione," Ron grumbled, jerking his head in Malfoy's direction. At this, Ginny's eyes opened wide in alarm.

"Oh my gosh, what happened?" She asked fearfully. She knew that anything involving Malfoy would be nothing short of brutal.

For the second time that morning Hermione recited Malfoy's advances on her. Now that Hermione thought about it, she was scared. _Oh, my gosh. I hit another student. I could be kicked out of my position for this. I could be expelled for this! Expelled in my final year!_ Then her common sense kicked in. _Wait, Malfoy wouldn't report me. He would think it was weak or something. He'll just get even… or worse…_

Hermione looked up at Harry and Ron, with the most subtle hint of uneasiness in her eyes. "I think I would be very grateful if you guys stayed with me today actually."

Thankfully, the Trio didn't encounter Malfoy until after Care of Magical creatures, their last class of the day. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione began lumbering toward the castle, they ran into none other than the person they were dreading to meet.

"Well, mudblood, I see you have your human shields with you again. Funny, I recall you saying you weren't afraid of me," Draco sneered, nodding toward Harry and Ron.

Harry had an expressionless look on his face, while Ron's hatred was not so subtle. His hands were shaking with anger, and his arms would twitch, as if he was struggling to control his urges to throttle Malfoy.

"She has something called 'friend's' Malfoy, you should get some," Harry spat. Ron was holding his tongue, and Hermione was very appreciative, because she didn't need her best friend to burst into a tirade on the first day of classes.

**(Author's Note: In my story, Malfoy ditched Crabbe and Goyle to befriend Blaise Zabini, and a bunch of good looking people, because Crabbe and Goyle were too thick and dim to understand any of Draco's plans of mass destruction.)**

"Hmm… no Potter, I think the word for her relationship with you and Weasley would be whore," Draco said coolly.

"Of course you would know all about those wouldn't you Malfoy, since your daddy has to buy you the best ones because no one would snog a sod like you?" Ron roared. Both Hermione and Harry grabbed onto the back of Ron's robes incase he let Malfoy's snide comments get the best of him.

Malfoy ignored Ron's outburst and turned to Hermione. "I'll see you in the common room," he drawled. Before he started heading toward the castle, he gave Hermione a wink.

All at once Hermione felt a mixture of hate, anger, and a tiny hint of curiosity. _What was that all about?... No, I don't want to know! Knowing him it will be something vile. Then again it's not everyday guys run around winking at me... SO? Who cares? If it's someone like Malfoy winking at me, then I don't want guys to give me attention._

Ron looked murderous, even more than he usually does when Malfoy's around. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, as if debating whether to strangle the ferret, or punch him in the gut. Without realizing it, Hermione grabbed his hand.

Harry, apparently the only one who noticed this because the others were too busy trying to figure out the reason behind Malfoy's actions, smiled inwardly. _About time_, he thought.

Ron's hand tingled with exhilaration as he felt Hermione's soft, elegant fingers link with his rough, course ones. He smiled with contentment and forgot all about Malfoy and his wink.

When Hermione's gaze traveled up to Ron's face, her heart did summersaults. The way his tresses fell sexily in front of his eyes, causing him to brush them out of his line of vision all the time, made Hermione want to run her fingers through his hair. It looked so silky and smooth, and the rolling fog on the school grounds couldn't dull his glossy, scarlet mane.

**(Author's Note: When I say mane, I don't want you guys to imagine Ron with this big hairy head or anything. It's just another word for hair! I know most of you think I'm stupid for pointing out the obvious, but there are some very -er- "special" people in the world.)**

Just then, Lavender and Parvati hurried by them, giggling like maniacs. Ron and Hermione looked down at their hands intertwined with each other's and quickly let go.

------------------------------------------Later that day-----------------------------------------

**(Author's Note: I know the above probably looks stupid, but it's just there so you don't get confused, since _someone_ told me to add things like that.)**

After dinner Hermione headed back to her dormitories to start her homework. When she finished an essay on the uses of a banshee's strand of hair, she decided to get ready for bed. She had just slipped into her pajamas and was about to go brush her teeth, when she saw Malfoy in the bathroom, shirtless, fiddling with his platinum blonde hair. When he saw Hermione come in a wicked grin spread across his fairly attractive visage.

"I've been waiting for you," he said in a secretive voice.

"Why on Earth would you be waiting for me?" Hermione asked cautiously. She didn't like seeing his shirtless body. She didn't like looking at her own body. Her eyes darted around the room, at the towels, the sink, anything other than his cold gray eyes, or bare chest.

"I think you owe me an apology for what happened last night," he said softly. He began to stride toward her, and she once again was walking backward, away from him.

"I don't owe you anything. I asked you to let me leave, and you didn't, so I had every right to defend myself, from whatever you were planning to do," Hermione said defensively. No way was she going to beg him for forgiveness because of his own actions. All the curiosity about why he was waiting for her was replaced with anger and annoyance. _How dare he even ask that I say sorry!_

**(Author's Note: When you see italics, just assume it's the person thinking, because I was getting really tired of writing "He thought," or "She thought to herself," 'cause I mean, I'm hoping you guys are smart enough to know that if there are no quotation marks, it means they are not talking. Also, I do not write what Malfoy is thinking, because Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny are my only thought-bubble characters.)**

As he continued to strut toward her, Hermione couldn't help notice that he had a nice torso. It wasn't a six pack, but it was well-defined. Hermione cursed herself for even looking at his upper body, and resumed staring at the ivory hand towels by the porcelain sink. _Wait, no, he'll think I'm trying to avoid his gaze. I have to stand my ground. I have to defend myself. I have to stop talking to myself._ Hermione's chocolate eyes stared straight back into his silvery Sickle eyes, as she continued slowly stepping away from him.

Suddenly her body collided with something hard and solid. _Oh crap. I hit the wall again._

Before she could even scamper away like a bunny from a fox, she saw that Malfoy was now directly in front of her. He then placed his hands on either sides of the wall she had backed into, sort of caging her between them.

"Well, if you're not going to apologize, I think you deserve to be punished," Malfoy drawled. It looked like he had just washed his hair, so little droplets of water were splattering onto Hermione's clothes.

"I don't think you have the authority to do any such thing," Hermione snapped. She was getting sick of his mind games, and it was only the second day back.

"I don't mean detention Granger," he said. He took a step closer, causing his chest to brush against her pajama front. She raised her hands to push him back, but he grabbed them, and held them to her sides. His breath smelled minty, as though he had just brushed his teeth.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not touch me?" Hermione demanded. Malfoy just continued to smile at her, making her heartbeat rise, both with alarm and something Hermione only felt around Ron. It wasn't exactly a sneer, but it was more like a devilish grin, like he had a secret that only he knew.

He leaned in and said quietly in her ear, "Until I'm through with you."

Then Malfoy shoved his body against hers, ensnaring her between the wall and himself. It felt as though she had been paralyzed from the waist down. He bent his head down so that his lips brushed part of her ear. "Don't enjoy this too much, mudblood," he whispered. Hermione quickly turned her head to evade what she had a strong feeling he was going to do.

Malfoy slammed his mouth against her cheek. When he realized her head was turned he switched toward his default plan, and began gently kissing her cheek, and nibbling her ear. Hermione's heart raced as his lips brushed against her skin. She wriggled in his arms as she struggled to get away. _This isn't good. Malfoy is kissing me. MALFOY is kissing ME. Why? Why, of all people, is Malfoy kissing me? When did he become such a good kisser?... No, don't think that! Escape! Escape I say!_

Malfoy's lips went from her cheek down her neck. He left a trail of burning pleasure along her jaw line. He then began to focus on one spot, visible when wearing school robes, make-up, perhaps even scarves. His lips made her neck feel as if it was an inferno. She wasn't used to feeling this sensation around guys, and was very reluctant to be sharing this experience with her worst enemy. Hermione wasn't going to give in to her urges, even though she felt like she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

"Get off," she wheezed, since he was crushing her lungs and couldn't exactly scream. Even though there was a moderately sexy seventeen year-old shirtless guy pinning her against the wall, smothering her with kisses, she knew this was wrong. Though she wasn't sure of his true intent, she had a feeling that it wasn't because he felt passion or affection for her.

_He's up to something. He's always up to something. But how would kissing a "mudblood" fit into an evil scheme? I mean, shouldn't this be more torture for him? Why isn't he worried about me poisoning his almighty pureblood-ness?! I wish Harry and Ron were here. Why do I always end up in situations like these!?! I miss Ron… How can I think of Ron at a time like this? Malfoy's practically on top of me and I'm thinking about Ron!?!?_

Malfoy just continued sucking her neck, knowing all too well that there would be a mark that wouldn't go away for quite awhile. She cringed every time she felt his tongue meet her smooth, slender neck. She felt as though there were flames licking her collar bone as his lips pressed roughly against it.

Hermione began to fight with less force, partly because she was tired and knew it was hopeless, partly because every nerve in her body wanted him to keep kissing her.

Malfoy seemed to be enjoying feeling her squirm next to his body. His free hand started slinking around her thin waist. He always enjoyed a challenge, as long as it wasn't related to school. Once he was satisfied with his work, he rested his head against hers, and murmured, "Well, mudblood, hope you didn't get too much pleasure from. After all, how would Potty and Weasel feel?"

"So that's why you're doing this to me? To hurt Ron and Harry?" Hermione said in a strangled sort of way, since he was still smashing her into the wall.

"I guess you could say that. Also, I heard that Gryffindors were the best in bed, but I was going to test that later," Malfoy purred.

Now Hermione snapped her head, facing his smirking face. "You're a sick bastard, you know that? And don't even _think_ about me having sex with you, because it's never gonna happen!" She tried to slip out of his grasp, but he was too heavy. He was still clutching onto her arms, and his slithering hand was making an attempt to go under her shirt. **(Authors Note: Meaning, it NEVER went under her pajama top, but tried to. Just wanted to make sure that was clear to all of you.) **The only part of her body that she could move was her head. What she did next was so childish, and so juvenile, that she was proud of the reaction it had on Malfoy.

She gathered up all the saliva in her mouth, and hurled it at Malfoy's sneering face. It splashed with a beautiful "plop" in his left eye.

Malfoy's signature smirk was replaced with a gasp and then a look of utter disgust. "What the"-Hermione didn't hear the rest because she had wrestled out of Malfoy's grip when he raised his hands to aid his injured eye, and dashed into her bedroom. She would brush her teeth in the morning.

That night Hermione had a hard time falling asleep. In the middle of the night, after countless hours of restlessness and insomnia, she crept into the bathroom and studied herself in the immense mirror. Her wavy, bushy hair was tousled and her face was pale. Her eyes had faint plum circles under them, giving her a dramatic look, but not hideous. Standing out against her light skin was a red mark, undoubtedly a hickey. She tried to think of ways to conceal the treacherous mark, but she couldn't find a fool-proof solution.

_I could put some make-up on it. Wait, what am I thinking!? I don't wear make-up, let alone own any. And if I asked someone to lend me some, they would see _it_. All the girl friends I have would bombard me with questions, and wring the truth out of me. Also Harry and Ron would suspect something, if I just bounced into class tomorrow with make-up painted on my face. Also, imagine how embarrassing it would be if it rained tomorrow. Not only would they see that I was wearing make-up, but they would know that I was hiding something from them. So then there would be questions about the why I was masking the hickey, and then an inquiry about the hickey itself. WHY IS LIFE SO CONFUSING!?_

_ Scarves… it's early September; it's still boiling outside. How am I going to get by with a scarf wrapped around my neck? Turtlenecks…_

_ Hermione, you're brilliant!_

_ I know I am, but why?_

_ Isn't it obvious!? I just have to wear a turtleneck, and tell Harry and Ron. That way, they'll no, and no one else will. But there's a strong chance that they'll try to slaughter the ferret…_

_ So? He deserves no better._

_ True. And for the last time, please stop having conversations with yourself inside your head. People will talk._

That night Hermione fell into an uneasy sleep. As she was tossing in her crimson sheets thoughts kept storming into her head, leaving her with no peace until the early sunrise, when she finally dozed off.

**(Authors Note: The thoughts were basically about the hickey, Harry and Ron's reaction, and Draco's reaction to the loogey.)**

The next morning Hermione woke up with ten minutes to get ready. Cursing her ill luck, she jumped into the shower. Even though people might assume that it would take ages to shampoo, condition and dry her mounds of hair, Hermione is actually quite quick when it comes to showering. She just shampoos her hair, rinses it out while scrubbing her body clean, and then applies the conditioner.

When she ran into the Great Hall to grab a muffin, her turtleneck was damp from her sopping hair leaking water onto the fabric. Ron and Harry looked amused at her entrance.

"Um, guys, can I talk to you in the library?" Hermione asked, panting from showering, drying off, getting dressed, and sprinting to the Great Hall in no more then seven minutes.

"Er, okay…" Harry glanced at Ron, who just shrugged with a might-as-well-since-we-have-nothing-better-to-do look.

They found a secluded spot between rows of books on Muggle Studies. Before she told them what happened, she made them promise not to interrupt, or do anything rash at the end.

"Last night Malfoy pinned me against the wall, and…" She glanced at their inquisitive faces. "And, he gave me this." When she said the word "this" she pulled down collar on her turtleneck revealing the crimson stain on her neck. For a few minutes nobody said anything; the boys were goggling at the mark, and Hermione was watching warily for their reactions.

Harry was the one who spoke first. "Is that a… hickey?" He asked incredulously. Hermione nodded miserably and explained what happened in the bathroom a mere twelve hours before.

Ron continued to gawk at Hermione. It felt as if somebody poured a barrel of gloom and despair over his head. Yesterday he felt eternal bliss, and now that blotch on Hermione's smooth neck brought him down into dejection and melancholy. He could feel the color drain out of his face as he gaped at the wine-red smudge, which was staring straight back at him, laughing at his suffering soul.

_Malfoy kissed Hermione. Malfoy left his putrid mark on Hermione's neck. I'm going to kill that little…_ He began to think of some very offensive words that described Malfoy's actions perfectly.

Ron finally found his voice. "Did you like the kiss Hermione?" He croaked wretchedly.

Hermione looked genuinely shocked at Ron's question; at the question itself and the glum tone of Ron's voice when he asked it. His eyes were full of hurt and despair. "Of course not! And I turned my head completely away from his mouth before he attacked me, so he only got my neck. Believe me Ron, I tried to break away from the monster," Hermione insisted. She was appalled at the thought of enjoying anything involving Draco.

Ron's pastel face visibly relaxed as she said that. Hermione couldn't help notice at how charming his sprinkle of freckles made him look. Instead of making him look gawky and nerdy, they gave him a distinguished appearance. Even his lengthy nose made him look shy, awkward and handsome.

Ron felt Hermione's auburn eyes watching him and knew that his face was probably a replica of a tomato. Then realization about why they were there in the first place crashed down on him.

"I'm going to slaughter the smutty pig. I swear, when he least expects it, I'll be there and," Ron made a slitting-his-throat motion, and then pretended to hang his head.

Harry just rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione. "Well, what are we going do Hermione? I know you told us not do anything irrational and daft, but I don't think I can just let this one by. And I think we all _know_ Ron can't handle watching Malfoy get away with this."

Hermione knew this was true, but she felt as though she was letting Malfoy win. _I mean, this is exactly why Malfoy did this to me in the first place; to get a rise out of Harry and Ron. Ugh, I hate that schmuck!_ When she explained this to Harry and Ron, they just ignored it.

"Who cares? When he's dead, it won't matter if he got what he wanted," Ron declared. A fire that neither Harry nor Hermione had seen before ignited in his hazel eyes. Hermione just shook her head in amusement at their ignorance.

"Ron, it's fine, really. I have a plan. But, I don't want to talk about it now," Hermione said when she saw their expectant faces. "You'll find out soon enough," she said, a secretive gleam shining in her eyes.

**Author's Note: Argh, sorry this chapter was so short. The next chapter will be mostly about Hermione's revenge and then Draco's revenge on Hermione's revenge, and more Ginny and Harry moments. (Wooo) Please forgive the pathetically pathetic shortness of this chapter. The other two were about six pages, but this was five (sobs) I'm sorry. Well, the actual story is five pages long, but the author's notes make it six, but whatever. By the way, I was reading some reviews for other people's stories, and they were saying things like "It's too Americanized," so, if mine's too Americanized please forgive me, because I'm in America, and I don't know how to British it up, so give me advice on how to make it less American, instead of just pointing out the obvious that it's "Americanized". Thanksh.**

**Oh, and the new Harry Potter movie is a mutilation of the book. Go see it so you can complain about it later like I did. (I mean, seriously, THE DEMENTORS DO NOT FLY AROUND!!!)**

**The next chapter might take awhile because I'm going to be busy this week.**

**Remember, read, review, and read it again!**


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